They tried to keep an eye on her. When they’d keep her inside the house, she’d stay by the window. When they’d bring her out into the yard, she’d go into the nearby forest. They’d keep her on a leash, but that would be impossible and tiring, both for the wanderer and for her chains.
For the wanderer cannot be held down; she cannot be held in fact. The wanderer is a soul – free and not limited. She chooses no time nor season; she is eternally in search, in awe, and in wonder of everything.
The wanderer is a soul and her best friend is a child. She and the child walk hand in hand, like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly. As the child grows, the wanderer becomes oblivion, and oblivion becomes confusion, and confusion, chaos. Then the child goes back into searching, only to find that the wanderer was still there in her place, only cluttered and beaten by life. So the child and the wanderer left life, until life found them.